


To be perfect (is to be broken)

by Enochianess



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochianess/pseuds/Enochianess
Summary: "No pain, no gain" – that's what Winifred Barnes had always told Bucky whilst he grew up. He doesn't think she meant it like this. No, she never would have meant it like this.Bucky has always strived for perfection. This time, he thinks, he might have gone too far.





	To be perfect (is to be broken)

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to start by saying, please be careful – this story heavily focuses on anorexia and depression. 
> 
> It is based on my own experiences of anorexia, as it is something I have struggled with myself for years now, so it might differ from your own experiences or understanding of the illness. All our experiences are valid, but this story will focus on my own.
> 
> Please be kind if you leave comments (constructive criticism is welcome) because, like I said, this story is very personal.
> 
> Other than that, I have nothing left to say other than to be careful. I hope you enjoy it!

Bucky thinks he’s going to faint. He’s not joking; he’s really going to faint. There are black dots in his vision, his stomach is churning, and his knees feel weak as if they’re about to give in beneath him any second. He staggers, his breathing heavy, his books slipping out of his arms and falling to the floor. Just when he thinks he’s going down too, a pair of strong arms catch him and lower him down gently until he’s sitting with his back resting against something (or someone) warm and solid. There is a ringing in his ears, but he thinks he can faintly hear someone speaking to him. It takes a minute before he manages to catch anything that is being said.

“Deep breaths, in and out, that’s it,” the deep voice says next to him, rubbing his back in large sweeps.

Bucky turns to look at the stranger, who smiles kindly at him. He’s beautiful, Bucky notes distantly – blond hair, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, cornflower-blue eyes – a real life Adonis.

“You’re doing great,” the guy says.

“What happened?” Bucky asks, his breathing still heavy but quickly stabilizing.

“You fainted. Well, almost.”

Bucky nods, closing his eyes against a sudden wave of exhaustion. Of fucking course he almost fainted the first time he’s left the apartment in five days.

“I didn’t call an ambulance, but I think we ought to get you to a nurse or something. There’s an office close by on campus I think. I’ve never been before, but it can’t be too hard to find.”

“No,” Bucky says quickly, “no nurses. I’m okay.”

The guy frowns, his smile fading somewhat. “I really think you should see someone, just to check that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky says, trying to push himself up off the ground. There are people staring at him curiously as they walk past and Bucky has the urge to lock himself away somewhere where nobody can see him. “Just got a little bit dizzy.”

“Um, if you’re sure,” the guy says, gathering Bucky’s books and helping him to his feet. “Has this happened before?”

“No,” Bucky lies. “Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and I guess I’m less fit than I thought I was.”

The guy nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Are you going to class?”

“I, um, I was, but I think I might just go back home and lie down,” Bucky says.

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll walk you, just to be on the safe side. If that’s okay, of course.”

Bucky wants to say no, but honestly he’s not sure he’ll make it back alone, so he nods, but asks, “You don’t have class do you?”

“Um, I do, but I don’t like it anyway, so technically you’re doing me a favor,” the guy says.

“I live in the East Village,” Bucky says.

“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll just walk you to the subway then. Unless you want me to go all the way back with you?”

Bucky smiles a little shyly. “The subway station is fine.”

They start walking back the way Bucky had come from, heading towards the station. “Thanks, by the way. For, y’know…”

“No problem,” the guy says. “I’m Steve.”

“Bucky.”

They walk mostly in silence, Steve carrying Bucky’s books and reaching out to take a gentle hold of Bucky’s elbow whenever he seems to be swaying a little. It’s not uncomfortable, not like most silences with strangers, and Bucky is incredibly thankful for that; he feels badly enough without the added anxiety an awkward silence would create.

“So, um, thanks for walking with me,” Bucky says when they get to the subway.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Steve asks, chewing on his lip.

“Yeah, I just need to lie down. I’ll be right as rain in a few minutes.”

“Okay. Eat some chocolate or something sugary – that should help.”

Bucky nods, smiling tightly. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” Steve says, passing Bucky his books.

Bucky grabs hold of the railing as he descends the steps into the station, his knees creaking. He gets onto the train, gripping hold of one of the poles as it starts to move, his eyes closed against a sudden wave of nausea. Honestly, this day is just terrible. He’s had days like this before, but it’s been a while. His body is mostly used to neglect by now.

Bucky slumps against the front door with tears in his eyes the moment he’s inside his apartment. He feels like such an idiot. Steve was hot – almost unbelievably so – and Bucky had practically fainted in front of him like some dame in one of the old movies.

(How fucking mortifying)

After a moment, he looks around his studio apartment and sighs. He puts his bag and books on his desk and strips out of his jeans and coat tiredly. He changes into a pair of thick sweatpants, pulls a hoodie over his long-sleeved shirt and sweater, and puts on a pair of thick, fluffy socks. Then he climbs into bed, pulls his duvet over his head, and lets himself cry.

He really needed to go to class today. He hasn’t been in over a week and he’s all too conscious of the fact that midterms are coming up quick. If he fails, he’s going to have to retake it next semester and he really doesn’t want to have to do that. He feels like he’s under enough pressure and stress as it is without the possibility of an extra class. It had taken blood, sweat and tears to get into Columbia and he can’t fuck it all up now.

Bucky buries his face in his pillow and tries to wrap his duvet tighter around his body. He’s fucking freezing, shivering despite the layers and the mild temperature in the room. He can’t stand being cold, but honestly, he can’t remember the last time he felt any semblance of warmth.

His stomach is screaming at him to eat, but he ignores it, twisting his face up as a shock of pain ripples through him. He hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday lunchtime – almost a full twenty-four hours ago now – but he rubs at his eyes with one hand and clutches his stomach with the other (the pain will pass – it always does), absolutely no intention of getting up to get any food. If he feels like he’s going to pass out again, he’ll have something, or if his brain is refusing to focus when he’s studying like it sometimes does.

Bucky closes his eyes, massages his stomach in an attempt to soothe himself, and then wills himself to sleep. He’s so exhausted by his trip to campus that he’s asleep almost instantly, a lingering feeling of shame and embarrassment aching in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://enochianess.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos or comments!


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